Slow dance: A waltz in conversation
by Howlinchickhowl
Summary: The dance is slow and doesn't quite work, neither of them really knows the steps. But maybe if they keep trying, at some point they'll improve. Puck and Rachel talk, or don't. *Spoilers up to Mash-up. AU after that* Rated M for language.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one. I intend no infringement and I mean no harm.

* * *

She felt rather than saw him as he leant against the locker next to hers, a long arm stretching out above both of their heads to hold his balance as he inclined his head towards hers. She felt his breath against her ear a second before she felt the soft rumble of a low voice cut through the fog in her brain, forcing her to flick her eyes to his.

"Never gonna happen." He practically sang it, with a soft smirk, casting his eyes over to the spot hers had previously been fixed upon, and then back towards her own.

She looked again, just in time to see Finn Hudson take a pile of books out of the hands of his pregnant girlfriend and offer her his arm to hold as they walked to class. It was sweet, and intimate, and she felt guilty for watching, but then she couldn't stop herself. She never could.

A hand waved back and forth in front of her face and she was forced to look back at the boy currently occupying her personal space.

"Never." He reiterated, raising his eyebrows this time for emphasis. She sighed and turned back to her locker to gather her things for her next two classes.

"I know that." She told him softly. His eyebrows raised even higher, this time in question. "I do, I know. I'm pathetic, I'm not stupid." He snorted at that and it was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Whatever." He tossed at her and pushed himself off the locker and walked away. She watched him go, half swagger, half lope and sighed involuntarily as she shut her locker. She took a moment to gather herself, schooling her face into an expression of what she hoped was confidence and cheer, and trotted down the hallway to her next class, hoping that her day was going to get better.

She turned the corner past the gym and found herself suddenly covered in bright blue frozen sugar. She kept her eyes closed while the slushie dripped down her face and waited for the laughter to subside before she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and then made her way to the nearest bathroom to clean herself off. She realised as she rinsed out her hair over the sink that her day was probably not going to get any better at all.

She was Rachel Berry. What had she been thinking?

* * *

Classes were over for the day and Rachel was sat at the piano in the auditorium practicing her scales. She kept fumbling at the peaks and was getting frustrated at her fingers, and then frustrated with herself because she knew it wasn't her fingers' fault. They were nimble as ever, but she was distracted. And Rachel Berry was not supposed to allow herself to get distracted. Distractions didn't get you parts in Broadway plays, distractions didn't win you Tonies or Grammies, and they most definitely did not get you out of Lima, Ohio. But Rachel was distracted, and so she was angry.

At some point she gave up playing. It wasn't doing any good anyway, and she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. She lay her head down on the piano and let the cool, varnished wood assuage the fire in her brain. It was working, she could feel herself calming down when she heard his voice, once more cutting through her thoughts and forcing her to pay attention to him.

"Heard you got slushied." He stood on the other side of the stage, hands stuffed in his pockets, head angled downwards but eyes slanted up toward her. Standard Noah Puckerman stance. She lifted her head and met his gaze.

"So what else is new?" His eyes dropped to his feet for a moment, and she imagined that she saw in them some remorse. Remorse for having been the one who started the awful slushy ritual, remorse for making her a huge walking target. Remorse for the change of clothes and the midday showers and the damage that that much washing would do to her hair. She imagined that she saw it. And then she remembered who he was. And told herself to stop being an idiot.

When he met her eyes again he shrugged. 'Fair point', he seemed to say, and once again he left her, strolling out of the auditorium leisurely, hands still in pockets, head still pointed down. She sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day and laid her head back down on the piano. It stayed there until it was time for Glee practice.

* * *

As she left practice and moved to her locker to get her coat and car keys she could feel him again. He filled her peripheral vision and she knew he was following her. She gathered her things quickly and steeled herself as best she could as she felt his presence behind her. She never knew what would come of their brief interactions.

He didn't try to torture her anymore; his brief interlude as her boyfriend had put paid to that particular past-time, but she wasn't sure that this wasn't worse. They weren't friends, he had made that clear, but she couldn't _get at_ what he wanted from her, and he didn't seem to want to tell her. These days whenever she spoke, more often than not she ended up tired, and he seemed dissatisfied. So she prepared herself as best she could and turned to face her pursuer.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Thank's to everyone who reviewed or put the story on alert, it's always great to know that people are reading.

**FREAKTONIGHT** - I didn't mean he was dissatisfied sexually, no. And he is most definitely not going to rape her.

Hope everyone enjoys chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and mean no harm.

* * *

"Hello Noah."

Her voice sounded soft and not quite her own, but she was too tired to care, and he was too _Puck_ to appear to have noticed. His hands were still in his pockets, she wandered whether they were glued in there, or if someone had sewn his cuffs into the lining. She smiled before she could check herself and he looked momentarily confused.

He recovered quickly and cleared his throat.

"You're pathetic, not stupid." He said, somewhat apprehensively, looking at her pointedly, hoping that she'd remember what she'd said to him earlier and not think that he was just trying to insult her. She didn't start yelling so he guessed he'd succeeded, and her curious look told him he should probably continue with his train of thought.

"So if you're not still hoping he's gonna like, suddenly realise he can't live without you and leave Quinn at the altar holding the baby and all that shit,", she smiled again at his clumsy mixing of metaphors; sometimes she envied his casual grasp of the English language, sometimes she wanted to just sound _normal. _"Why'd you call it off with you and me?"

Whatever she had thought he was going to say, she was certain it hadn't been that. Though now that he'd said it she really wasn't sure what she had expected him to say, other than some variation on the same conversation they'd been almost having for weeks now.

After she had gone to him on the bleachers and told him that they wouldn't work out, he had seemed to take it upon himself to make sure that she was reminded _every day_ that Finn didn't want her, and never would. As though he thought that if she forgot for one minute and allowed herself to believe, the world would fall down around them. And so there were looks and comments every couple of hours, just to remind her of her place, and she had expected more of the same.

But this was new. She didn't know what to do with this. So she did what she did best these days, she sighed. She deflated in front of him and leant back against the cool metal of the lockers, allowing her eyes to float back into her head as she exhaled and relishing the moment's relief before she would have to look at him again.

When she did she met his eyes, and they seemed too sharp, somehow, too green. So she looked down instead. "You want to know the truth?"

"I guess. Be kinda pointless asking if I wanted a lie."

She chuckled. And she surprised herself because she didn't really know she knew how. It was low and quiet and she thinks she quite liked it. She thinks maybe it made her sound like a regular girl and she's disappointed in herself for liking the idea that she could be a regular girl. No one ever got anywhere by blending into crowds, she knew. But she thinks maybe that's how people got happy. But that's an idea for another day, right now there's a boy and a question and an answer she can't bear.

"Remember I said that I wanted everything too much?" She looked at him again and he tilted his head in assent, he remembers, "Well, as it turns out, you're not an exception to that rule."

She's still looking at him as he takes in her answer, and he frowns, like he doesn't quite know what she means. She wills him to say something, to mock her or to sneer at her or to grab her and stamp her down. She wills him to react in anyway at all. Apparently willing doesn't work, and she wishes she believed in wishing because he's still looking at her like she's a puzzle he just can't quite _work_, and she hates it.

It's on the verge of becoming unbearable when he seems to make up his mind about something. He looks at her for just another beat before giving just the slightest nod and turning away. He walked down the hall and out the door and she watched him, again. She wandered briefly if she was going to spend the rest of her high school life watching him walk away and she sighs. The fact that she does is not lost on her either.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: Thanks once again for the reviews and words of encouragement, I hope everyone enjoys this installment.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

* * *

"What does that even mean?" He calls out to her as he descends from his truck and strolls up her driveway. She is watering the flower baskets hanging from her porch, her dads are away for the weekend and she promised them that the petunias wouldn't die between now and Monday.

She is surprised to see him outside of school; he hasn't been to her house in weeks and his presence here now seems incongruous. So incongruous that it throws her off and she stumbles down the small step-ladder to greet him and realises she has no idea what he had asked her.

"I beg your pardon?" She tucks her hair behind her ear and he rolls his eyes, Noah didn't like to repeat himself, he didn't like using three words when one would do, and he didn't like to have conversations that lasted more than a minute at a time.

"I _asked,_" he says, with emphasis, his hands finding his pockets and his head dipping forward to look her in the eyes as though he were talking to a child, "what the _hell_ does that even _mean_?"

"I'm afraid I don't really know to what you are referring. I've told you about this before Noah, how do you expect me to carry out a proper conversation with you when more often than not I haven't the smallest idea of what you are speaking?" She sets her watering can on the floor by the wall and moves to open the front door when she hears a hand hit the wooden frame and turns to find him towering above her, standing a little too close, breathing a little too hard. He leans into her and practically hisses into her face.

"You _know_ what I'm talking about Berry. I'm not an exception to whatever messed up rule you live your life by? Tell me what that means, because I sure as shit got no idea."

She sighed. She was so _sick_ of sighing. She was so sick of being helpless and pathetic and having nothing more pro-active and helpful to do than fucking _sighing_.But she didn't. So she sighed.

"Oh. That."

"Yeah, that. You forget about it?"

"Not exactly, but you didn't seem to have any kind of reaction so I assumed that we were done with that particular conversation. Maybe that was just wishful thinking."

"I guess is was yeah. What did it mean?"

She couldn't keep looking into his eyes, and she couldn't move her head to look up, he was so close, so she looked at her hands instead. She needed space, she needed to move, to breathe. He was so _close_.

"Noah, could we please go inside? I can't have this conversation with you breathing in my face."

His eyes registered surprise, as though he hadn't noticed how close he was standing to her, and he retracted, with a slight nod as he motioned her inside the house.

* * *

Rachel was gathering refreshments in the kitchen. Puck was leaning against the countertop. Neither was speaking. Again. He was getting sooo sick of this.

"Talk Berry, I got things to do." That didn't come out exactly the way he had intended, but he was tired and pissed off and he didn't care if she thought he was being an asshole. So he didn't bother to soften his tone or rephrase, he just scowled at her and waited.

She looked hurt. He could care, but then he'd be hurt too. And that would be fucked up.

"Well go and do them then, no one invited you here." _You're not wanted._ He didn't care.

"I aint leaving until you explain. So get your panties out of their little bunch and talk to me. If you gotta take 'em off to do that, then so be it." He smirked at her and stuck a carrot stick in his mouth and chomped loudly down on it. Fuck knows why he couldn't ever just talk to her like she was human, he always had to say _something_ that was guaranteed to get her back up and he just couldn't help it. Even when he was trying he couldn't resist the urge to just _poke_ at her until she was mad at him.

Except she wasn't mad at him now. She just kind of rolled her eyes and huffed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it."

"Well you did, so now you have to deal with that."

Recently she seemed to find her hands pretty fascinating, and it pissed him off. If he was here having this conversation with her; the last conversation he'd ever want to have with the last girl he would ever have dreamed of having it with, she was damn well gonna look him in the eyes when she talked to him.

"Berry, stop planning your next manicure, my eyes are up here."

He was in front of her now, she hadn't noticed him get up, or round the counter, but he was _close_ again, so she took a step back. She kept her eyes fixed on his this time though, she had learnt that lesson.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to explain to me, in plain English coz you know how that dictionary shit drives me crazy, what it is that you meant when you told me that I wasn't an exception to your wanting stuff too much."

"That's a very convoluted sentence Noah."

"What did I _just_ tell you Berry!? Fuck's sake, talk American!" God she made him want to smack himself in the face she was that irritating. Why the hell was he even here? That was a good question. Jesus.

"Ok." She said. And then she did that thing where she was preparing to make one of her announcements or something when she sucked in a big breath and sort of shook our her shoulders before speaking.

"Whatever we were, whatever this was, we both knew we were in it for certain reasons." She was looking to him for agreement and to check that she didn't need to spell out whatever her reasons were, he could guess, he didn't want it confirmed. He was pretty certain it was the same way for her, so he nodded.

"And for whatever it was to work, on the basis of those reasons, a certain lack of regard for one another is almost necessary as it prevents the inevitable decline into-"

"Berry! American. Seriously."

"Right, sorry. What I meant was, that essentially for us to keep using each other in the way that we had been, we essentially had to not like each other very much."

He nodded again, it was a sound theory.

She hesitated before adding the next sentence to their conversation. Even though she had really already said what she was about to say, spelling it out like this in plain American was a thing that once done could not be undone. Puck seemed intent on getting her to do it, but she's not certain that he fully understands the ramifications. Not that she can check with him if he does because he'll just end up yelling at her for using words like ramifications and the point will be lost. So she just dives right in.

"Well, as it turns out, I guess I like you a little more than not at all, and that would have turned out to be a problem. If I'd allowed things to continue as they were it is inevitable that my fondness for you would have escalated and that you would have noticed and I would have ended up hurt. So I thought it best to end things sooner and try to just move past it."

She was looking at her hands again. She wasn't sure when it had become just too difficult to look him in the face, but at some point she just couldn't take it anymore and so there her hands were. God they were tiny.

He hadn't spoken in almost a minute after she had stopped. She found herself raising her head to look at him again. He looked confused. Again. Was her vocabulary really that outmoded? He seemed to realise then that he was supposed to say something, because he cleared his throat.

"I'm certain that you're the only person alive who would manage to both tell me they had a crush on me and call me an asshole in the same sentence. That is messed up."

She didn't know what to say to that. Sure he wasn't mocking her, but he wasn't grabbing her and kissing her silly either, and he still just looked confused. And there was something else behind his eyes that she couldn't quite make out. Suffice it to say it wasn't any one of the five different reactions she'd been expecting.

Nor was she expecting him to choose that moment as the end of their discussion, as he nodded again and walked swiftly out of the kitchen with a backwards wave and a 'later' tossed casually in her direction.

Whatever else Noah Puckerman was, he was definitely not predictable.


	4. Chapter 4

He caught her staring at Finn again on Thursday. That was two days ago. It's been more than a week since they last spoke and he has no desire to end the silence. Conversations with Rachel Berry are too long and always far too complex.

But she was staring at Finn again, and the main reason that it pissed him off was because his noticing meant that he was staring at her again. It had been two days and he was still pissed and he doesn't know how to make himself be not pissed off. So he's pissed off. And he's throwing stones at her window on a Saturday night because she's the reason all this is happening to him, and so she deserves to suffer as well.

"Noah?" Her voice comes from behind him, and it startles him so that he trips as he spins to face her. She is getting out of her parents' car and the Mr.s Berry themselves are closing doors and unloading groceries. Well, he didn't see that coming.

"Hi." He rolled his eyes at himself, and she laughed a little.

"Hi. What are you doing here?"

Good question. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stubbed his toe into her lawn. "I uh, I wanted to- You wanna walk? For a bit?" He raised his eyes to hers, met her eyes with his. She looked scared.

"You go ahead honey, we've got things covered here, just be back before eleven ok?" Suit-wearing Berry kissed his daughter on the top of the head before making his way into the house with an armful of groceries.

Smart-casual Berry nodded at her from behind the trunk as he gathered bags. Teeny tiny Berry looked exasperated as it seemed her decision had been made for her. A tiny smile tugged at his lips as they fell into step together. He'd never seen her speechless before.

* * *

She looked cute, he decided, seeing her in her 'casual' wear. For Rachel casual meant a slightly longer skirt made from some kind of soft flowing cotton, a t-shirt and a cardigan made of something other than cashmere. It all still matched so much it made his eyes hurt, but it wasn't knee-socks and loafers and plaid and pleats. It was almost normal. It was cute.

They walked in silence for about five minutes, and he knew she was about fit to burst, so he kept quiet a little longer, just to see what would happen when she finally did. It took another forty-seven seconds.

"Noah!!" She practically yelled at him as she stopped short beside him, her fists were balled into little bunches and she was _this _close to stamping her foot and he couldn't help but laugh. The laughing didn't do anything to appease her anger.

"Alright, sorry, what?"

"What do you mean what?"

"I mean, Rachel, you practically just shrieked my name, I assume that you had something to say to me."

"You're the one who was throwing stones at my window and practically ambushed me into going for a _walk_ with you, and by the way what is that about? Who goes for _walks_? Surely you are supposed to have something to say to me?"

He chuckled again and kind of leaned into her with his shoulder to encourage her to start walking again. "Yeah, the walk thing was pretty lame, sorry about that."

"Well?"

"Well?"

"Why are you here Noah? Why are we walking?"

He shrugged, he could tell her, he could ask her what it was he came here to ask her. But he was having kind of a nice time walking with her, even if it was in relative silence. The night was warm and the sun was glowing that orange blaze that only happened at the very end of autumn and he knew that if he brought it up now, the moment would be ruined and he would go back to being pissed off. So he chickened out. It was a conversation for another time.

"I dunno, I was bored. Just kinda felt like buggin' ya."

"Oh." She rolled her eyes, "Well isn't that just wonderful for me?" But her rueful smile and the toss of her hair made him certain that she wasn't really annoyed at his presence. Who knew, maybe she actually kind of wanted him there. The thought made him smile and he bumped her shoulder with his again.

"Sure is babe, guess it's your lucky day."

She laughed, and he smiled, and they walked. They didn't really talk, and they didn't really change, but it was nice. It was something.

* * *

"So, are you like, still into Finn?" He asked her one day after glee. The nights were getting darker sooner and the sun was setting as they spoke. She was stacking chairs and he was collecting scores. He thought perhaps it should have been the other way around, she wasn't really tall enough to keep topping up the chairs and he wasn't gentle enough to collect the papers without crumpling them. But it was how it was, and he had more important things to talk about.

She sighed and her shoulders drooped. He fucking hated it when she sighed, it was like her whole body just gave in, and it bugged him that he never really noticed how much tension she was carrying until he said something that made her just want to give up. And she did it all the fucking time and he was most often the cause of it and it was _irritating_.

"No." She says, because she wants it to be true, and she thinks it almost is. She thinks if she can convince him then maybe it will be. Needless to say it doesn't work.

"No?" He grabs a couple of chairs out of her hands and shoves them roughly on top of the stack and kind of leans down into her because he knows it makes her feel like she has to tell the truth. "Cause you're pretty much _always_ mooning at him, or trying to have eye-sex with him during practice, or lending him your math notes or something. You maybe wanna start telling me the truth, seeing as how you're obviously lying to yourself?"

If it's possible she deflates even more and he kind of wishes that he hadn't brought it up. But he had to didn't he? Had to get all of this _shit_ sorted out in his head so that he could just get things back to normal. To the way they should be, instead of the way they were. He resented the fuck out of her and this entire conversation but it had to be done and damnit he was a man wasn't he? So he asked, and so he was about to receive.

"Rachel."

Her voice was quiet when she spoke again, her head was down and her hair fell in her face. She was no longer the Rachel Berry most people at school recognised, and he hated himself for it, but it kind of tickled him that he was the only person who ever really got to see her be just Rachel, instead of Rachel Berry, even if he had to make her miserable to do it.

"No." She said again, with even less conviction. "Yes. I don't know. Does it matter?"

"Yeah, it kinda does."

"God! Why?! Why do you have to just _know_ everything? Why can't it just _be_?"

"Because it's fucking annoying Rachel! It's like I don't know what to be to you. I can't be your make-out buddy because apparently you like me too much, and I can't be your friend because you don't like me enough and frankly you annoy the living crap outta me anyway."

She rolled her eyes at that and made for the door.

"Gee thanks Puck, you're so charming when you try really hard."

He followed her out into the hall and loped along side her as she marched along the hallway to the parking lot.

"I just, I'm just trying to figure out whether you decided you like me because you actually do and you're done with the Hudson drama, or whether it was just because I was there and I was interested."

She stopped short. She looked hurt. Again. Fuck.

"So what, I'm just that desperate that I'd convince myself I had feelings for you just because you were the only person who ever decided that I wasn't too repulsive to want to kiss?"

Rachel blinked back tears and tried not to let the hurt set in. He had said much worse things to her in the past, she knew he had. It's just that none of them had ever made her feel so _worthless_.

God why did she have to _care_ what he thought of her? Everything would just be a whole lot easier if he meant nothing to her. But somewhere between slushies and her bedroom and the football field he had become something more than just a boy to her, as if her life needed to be any more confusing.

Because he was right, about Finn. She still liked him, still caught herself staring at him in the hallways and gushing at him in Glee. He was _Finn_. He was special. But then there was Noah and he was special too, in a different way and he kept demanding answers and she just _didn't know_. She really was pathetic. She didn't want him to know that.

He hadn't answered her question, he was kind of looking at her, dumbfounded. So she did the thing that he was just so good at. She walked away from him. She knew he watched her go.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the characters or places utilised wthin

**Author's note: **Thanks again for reviews everyone, it's really great to hear what you think, and I'm touched by your comments. This chapter is way heavy on dialogue, I realise, and it was difficult to write because I generally don't do well with dialogue, I have a flair for the dramatic which doesn't always play out well, so sorry if it's all very RAH, I tried my hardest to make it realistically a conversation they might actually have. I hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

"I can't tell you what I don't know. That's the problem here."

It had been two months and six days since she had broken up with him, and here they were again, on the bleachers staring out across the field at football practice. He was sitting exactly where he had been the last time they'd spoken here, and she was sat behind him just the same. In fact the entire situation was almost exactly the same, except that it was different in pretty much every way there was and they both knew it.

They hadn't spoken in a week. Every time she saw him in the hall he was looking the other way. Every time they had to dance together in glee he would hold her hand too tight and drop it too quickly. Every time she looked at Finn she could feel his eyes on her and it was stifling. So she'd sought him out, Puck, and wasn't it weird that even though he was always Noah out loud, he was still Puck in her head? Like even though she knew he was different now, her brain still wouldn't let her believe it.

"Bullshit." He spat out without even looking at her, without taking his eyes off the rest of his team. "The problem here is that you're full of shit. How the fuck can you not _know_? It's pretty simple Rachel, you either dig a guy or you don't. Plain and simple."

"No it's not. Not for me."

He laughed then, and it surprised her, he sounded so bitter. "Of course, Rachel Berry always has to be special, how could I forget."

She wanted to scream with the frustration she felt with him in that second. She wanted to knock him to the ground and pummel him into it. But he was pretty big and she was fairly small and violence never solved anything. So she said, softly, because if she couldn't scream then whispering was the next best thing, "It's not about that Noah."

He looked at her for the first time, even though he could hardly bear it. She looked so small, so tired, and so ashamed of herself that he almost had to believe her. He didn't know why she'd sought him out, he thought he'd done a pretty good job of severing ties after their last altercation.

* * *

She'd just looked so hurt the last time he'd looked her in the eyes, and he hated knowing that it was his fault. _Hated it_. But she'd hurt him too, even if she didn't realise it. They were slowly breaking each other into jagged edged pieces and damned if he was gonna let it just happen. So he'd done the one thing he had _always_ been good at, could always do, he'd walked away, and kept walking, and had intended to keep walking if it meant keeping her whole. But then she'd found him, and he was looking at her again and there was one more piece of him tearing off and hitting the floor.

He wanted to walk away. But it's her and it's him and somehow he just can't do it. He just _has_ to know, has to keep pushing, poking. He has to know, even if it shatters him. So he asks, not able to keep the anger from his voice.

"Well then what the hell _is_ it about?"

"It's not _real_ Puck!! None of it is real!! Nothing I have is really what I think it is and I have no idea how I'm supposed to feel about any of it."

She's not quiet anymore, but she's not yelling either, and she can't stop the frustration, the desperation from leeching into her voice and making it crack in her throat. She can't help looking at her hands instead of him and she just wishes she were stronger. She wished, and not for the first time, that she were stupid, and not pathetic.

"Do you know that I didn't even like Finn until he joined Glee? I barely even knew who he was outside of the fact that he was on the football team. But then he was there and he was singing to me and looking at me like he meant it and I made myself believe it, and I think I made him believe it too. But I don't know if I really felt anything for him, or if I just convinced myself that I did because no one had ever looked at me like that before, and I'm so deep now that I just have no idea what I feel."

She takes a deep breath because that was a ridiculously long sentence, even for her, and she knows he wishes that it were about ten minutes shorter and a lot more of an answer. She watches him, waiting for him to start telling her that she needs to quit the dictionary crap, or stick to single syllables or something.

But he doesn't, and she thinks maybe this whole thing is a lot more serious than that now. That maybe he's so pissed off that the stuff that usually annoys him about her doesn't matter any more because it's all on a much larger scale. So she decides that as long as he's keeping quiet, she'll avail herself of the opportunity and just say everything that's on her mind.

There's an outside chance that he's listening, and an even smaller chance that saying it out loud will help. So she reaches her hand out, like she had once before, and places it on the curve of his shoulder.

"And then there was you. And you wanted me, and it felt so _good_ Noah. To have someone want me. To have _you_ want me, after everything that our history held, and after years of feeling like no one would _ever_ want me."

It was hard for her to say, to acknowledge how she knew now she had always seen herself. She put up such a show of confidence, in herself, in her attractiveness, but she had never really believed it, even when she thought he had. She was starting to understand herself now, by degrees she was getting there, but she hadn't had enough time, and she honestly had no idea if she was ever going to make sense of everything that happened in her brain.

" And you were different when you were with me, I felt it. You were sweet, and kind, and you didn't care if people saw us and that was _appealing_ to me, and so I started to think about you in terms of actually being with you for reasons that had nothing to do with Finn."

He had turned his head so that he was almost looking at her, but he flinched when she said Finn's name and turned back to the field. Why was everything always about _him?_ This was supposed to be about the two of them, but _he_ was always there, just lurking around, waiting to take anything and everything Puck might ever want, even if he didn't want it, even if he didn't know that that was what he was doing.

"But then I would still feel butterflies whenever I saw Finn, and it confused me. I guess I always thought that it would be clear cut, that I would like one person and that person would like me and it would be simple. But it wasn't and I can't make sense of it Noah. Because there's Finn and there's you and you both make me feel such different things. And I see you looking at Quinn, don't pretend that there's nothing there, so I have no idea how you feel about me really, except that you can't seem to leave me alone and I guess that's something. Do _you_ even know how you feel about me?"

He doesn't answer. He doesn't look at her. He doesn't move her hand from his shoulder and it's almost like he's not really there anymore. But then he leans forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands rubbing through the back of his head, so she at least knows he's alive. Her hand lingers in mid-air, fingers curling around the air where his shoulder had been, as though she could bring him back to her. She places her hand back on her knee and stops herself from sighing, she refuses to sigh.

"How hard can it be Puck? You either dig a girl or you don't" She's trying to make him laugh, but it doesn't work, and she knows it wasn't really funny. But she thinks he gets it. It's not easy. It's _high school_.

"So, I guess my point is, long-windedly I know, that I don't have an answer for you, but you don't have an answer for me, so I don't think that you should get to be angry at me for not having answers to questions that you've never even asked yourself. I don't know if I still like Finn, or if I ever did, or if my feelings for you are real and not just misplaced gratitude."

If it was possible he hung his head even lower at that and she almost took it back. But she had decided upon telling the truth. To herself, and to everyone else, he wasn't an exception to that. Because if she was ever going to sort out this mess she'd constructed for herself, she had to start with that.

" But if I'm going to be with someone, then I have to know that it's not just because I'm Jewish and you want to make your mom happy, or because you think my legs would look good wrapped around your waist, or because you think it'll get to Finn to see you with me, or because tapping a freak would make your stud status irrefutable. I think, I _hope_, that we both deserve to have someone want us because we're us, and not just a means to an end."

He still hasn't said anything, and she doesn't think he's going to, but he's raised his head and his shoulder is back within reach of her, and when she places her hand on it he grasps it in his own. They stay there until the sun starts to set and he realises he has to pick up his sister. He drives her home on his way and he smiles at her when she hops down from his truck, and she starts to feel, for the first time in a while, that maybe things will end up ok.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: So this is the final chapter of my little dance. I hope everyone has enjoyed the ride, I have loved writing these two characters and it's probably a testament to that that it's one of the only multi-chapter fics I have ever actually finished. Thank you for your opinions and thoughts, they have been encouraging and helpful and I'm thankful to everyone who reviewed. Enjoy the last installment.

Disclaimer: None of the characters herein belong to me in any capacity whatsoever.

* * *

So, here's the thing. He thinks he probably started to think about her before the whole thing with his mom and Schindler's list. Looking back on it now, he thinks he probably started to think about her without even thinking about it, around about the time Finn joined Glee.

He just didn't get it, what Finn _got_ out of dancing around and singing to some chick who he wasn't even banging. Finn was his boy, and this was a whole part of him that he had no idea existed, no idea how to deal with. But he was a decent friend, sort of, if you discount the whole Quinn thing, and he had _wanted_ to understand, so he'd started watching them. Glee club. From the back of the auditorium, or across the lunch hall, or sometimes through the window of the choir room during afternoon practice.

And he still didn't get it. They were pretty awful to start with, and yeah, Don't Stop Believin' was pretty cool, but also majorly lame in a cheesy, High School Musical kind of way. And there oughta be laws against what they did at that pep assembly. Seriously, it was just wrong. But Finn still seemed to really dig it, and Rachel seemed to be a big part of that, and he wanted to understand why. So instead of watching them, he'd started sort of watching her. Not in a creepy way. And not in the kind of way that took him any extra effort.

But she was always around, mainly just 'happening' to hang out behind Finn in the hallways, flipping her hair and waiting for him to turn around. And she was really fucking _noticeable_. She was like this giant, pick clad, _force_ that just kind of popped out of her surroundings, so yeah, he watched her a bit. Watched her with Finn, watched her in Glee when he finally joined, watched her after she was slushied, watched her by herself. Just, observing, in a casual sort of way, definitely not creepy.

And sometimes she would see him looking at her, and instead of doing any number of things that most normal girls would do when they caught someone staring at them, like throwing him a disgusted look or starting to flirt with him, she'd just smile a little and look away. And he didn't hate that about her.

A couple of times she happened to be sitting next to him in Glee and occasionally during one of Mr. Shue's lectures about team unity or whatever he'd roll his eyes at her or pretend to snore and she'd giggle softly and pretend to look mad at him. And he didn't hate that about her either.

And as time went on, she got a little bolder. Instead of waiting for him to look at her, or sit by her or acknowledge her, she'd give him a little look as they passed in the hallways, or she'd just stroll right up and sit by him and start babbling on about this or that. He didn't listen, but she didn't really care as long as he didn't tell her to fuck off. And he didn't hate that about her either.

So by the time his mom came up with her newest way of making him feel guilty about himself by saying he was just as bad as fucking _Nazis_, and by the way how messed up is _that?_, she was already kind of in his head, and all his dream really did was highlight that she was actually pretty hot and that it totally wouldn't suck if she wanted to make out with him.

But when she started talking about him not being man enough to deal with the ups and downs of loving her and all that bullshit, he kind of started thinking that maybe he wanted to be. She was _really_ kind of hot, and there were lots of things about her that he didn't hate, and a few that he thought he might almost like, and he started to think that maybe he could be good enough for her if he tried. And for a second there it worked.

Then it had all gone to shit, because she'd broken up with him, and then told him that she liked him, and then told him that he didn't really like her and that they were both just idiots who didn't know what they wanted and didn't they deserve better than that?

But he thinks maybe he does know. What he wants. He thinks that it's probably, almost definitely her.

* * *

"Hey." He threw it out casually as he leaned up against the locker next to hers while she gathered her things for her next class.

"Good afternoon Noah." She smiled slightly as she closed her locker and leaned against it, facing him. "Is there something I can help you with?"

He smiled at the floor, and then looked up at her with a glint in his eye, "Actually, yeah there is. Go on a date with me."

Gobsmacked. Is pretty much the only way he could characterise her reaction. Good, that's what he'd been going for. Her brow creased and her jaw dropped just a little, and she shook her head slightly as well, it was cute.

"I don't understand." Cute only went so far. He rolled his eyes for effect and jabbed at her a little with his fist.

"You see, a date is like, a nice evening out with someone that you like, dinner or a movie or sex in the back of a truck," She rolled her eyes at that part, he smirked, because he was awesome for remembering to work that in there.

"I understand what a date is Noah."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want you to go on one with me. You can pick the activity, though I think you know which one I'd vote for, and part of being a good date is taking into consideration the other party's feelings." He smirked again for good measure. She couldn't seem to make up her mind between being annoyed and confused.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to go on a date with me?"

He smirked. It had to be done. "To have sex with you in the back of my truck. Obvs." Too far. He'd thought maybe the smirk and his use of the insanely tweenage girl terminology would clue her in to that part being mostly a joke, but she'd pushed off the lockers and was making her way down the hall to whatever class she had next. He jogged a little to catch her up.

"Ok, here it is, straight up I promise." He laid his hand on her shoulder, getting her to stop and turn to face him again. "You're confused, right? You don't know if you like me, or if I really like you or even whether we'd get on together if we did this. So I figure, we do this the old fashioned way. I'm gonna take you out on a date. You know, the way they did it back in like the 1900s or whatever. That way, you get to spend time with me in a romantic way, without worrying about whether you're like, leading me on or whatever, and it'll help you make up your mind. About us. And I'll be able to see whether I really can put up with your crazy when we're not making out. Win-win, the way I see it."

She was warming up, he could tell, her brow and decreased and her fingers were playing absentmindedly with the edges of her books. She was kind of smiling as well. That's a good sign, he thinks.

"I don't know, Noah. It's probably not a good idea. I think we both have some stuff we have to figure out first. Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, it really is a lovely idea."

Damn. So close. One last stab. One last little nudge, that's all it would take, he was sure of it. He had really hoped to get out of this without saying what he was about to say, but he guessed it was absolutely necessary, and so he brought out the big guns. If there's one thing this girl appreciated, it was a speech. And so a speech he would give. _Damn it_ he was a pansy.

"Alright look, I want you to go on a date with me because I want to go on a date with you. And sure, if it ended up being sex in the back of my truck, that wouldn't suck, but mainly, I just want to go out with you. You're hot, and sweet when you're not being crazy, and talented, and never boring at least, and I guess, what I mean in a general sense, is that, I don't hate you, and I wouldn't hate spending some more time with you, alone, outside of school. And I'm not gonna pretend that I don't think that your legs _would _look awesome wrapped around me, or that it wouldn't make my mom blow her nut if she found out you were Jewish, or even that it tickles me a little bit that Finn looks kind of like a retarded monkey when he sees us talking, and my God what would he do if I had you pressed up against a locker one day when he came to school? That would be kind of awesome. But mostly it's just about you. I like you, I guess. And I'd like it if you liked me too. And so I'd like to give you the opportunity to find out if you do. And I think you should extend me that courtesy after everything you've put me through these last couple of months."

He stopped for breath. And also because she was smiling at him. A really bright fucking smile that kind of creeped him out a little. But that's what he had been aiming for. Hell yes this girl of his loved a good speech. And he didn't suck at giving them either. She hasn't said anything yet so he nudges her just a little bit more by sticking out his bottom lip and blinking at her several times. And she laughs. A proper barking laugh with her head tipped back and her eyes shut. And then she smiles at him again, and he knows she's gonna say yes.

"Ok. Let's give it a try." He resists the urge to pump his fist in the air and crow in victory, he placates himself with a mental pat on the back for being a super awesome stud with mad wooing skills. And he nods at her ever so slightly and gestures for her to start walking and falls into step next to her.

"I'm not having sex with you in the back of your truck." She tosses him a sideways glance as they stroll down the hall and he smirks for what's like the fiftieth time this conversation, and this is why he hates long conversations, he only has like three facial expressions and they start to wear thin after a while.

"See, you say that now…" She giggles and swats him on the arm, and then heads off to her class, leaving him to go in the other direction. He watches her go a little bit, in a totally not creepy way. Yeah. This was gonna be good.

The end


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